Jane Grigson's Fish Book Part 26

Serves 22 nice plump whiting, heads removed4 shallots1 long chive stalk3 tablespoons lightly salted b.u.t.ter1 clove garlic still in its skin, but crushed6 tablespoons fish stock*125 ml (4 fl oz) red wine2 tablespoons creme fraichesalt, pepper, sugar Switch on the oven to gas 7, 220C (425F). Choose a gratin dish that will hold the whiting when they are filleted, spread out in a single layer, and set a heat-diffuser mat on the stove, if necessary.

Clean the whiting through the gills, saving the livers. Split and bone them from the back and lay them flat.

Chop the shallots with the chive stalk and cook it gently in the b.u.t.ter in the gratin dish, with the garlic. After a minute, pour in the stock and reduce by half, then add the wine. When it bubbles, put in the whiting, skin side down, and head to tail to save s.p.a.ce. When the wine begins to bubble again, transfer to the oven. Check after 3 minutes, removing the dish when the whiting are just cooked. Transfer the whiting to a serving dish and keep warm.

Strain the juices into a small pan with a heavy base. Add the livers and the cream. Reduce over a moderate heat, stirring quietly with a wooden spoon. Taste and check the seasoning, adding a pinch or so of sugar to counteract the acidity of the wine. Pour over fish and serve immediately.

WHITING WITH AUBERGINE IN TWO FASHIONS.

By cooking aubergine in two very different ways, you can make a lively accompaniment to whiting that sets off its pearly texture well. If you feel that the coating of egg and breadcrumbs is too much, content yourself with flouring the fish before you cook it.

Serves 66 small filleted whitingsalt6 aubergines, medium size, peeledplain floursunflower oilabout 6 tablespoons olive oil4 cloves garlic, crushed, finely chopped23 tablespoons chopped parsleybeaten eggplenty of fine breadcrumbs or or fine cornmeal fine cornmealclarified b.u.t.terlemon wedges or or fresh tomato sauce fresh tomato sauce*

Season the whiting with salt and set aside. Pick out the two longest aubergines, cut them in halves across, then downwards into very thin slices. Dice the rest of the aubergines (including any lumpy bits left from the slicing) and put them into a colander, salting lightly as you go. Lay the slices on top and salt them, too, then weight them down with a dish. Leave for an hour. This preparation means the aubergines will absorb less oil.

Dry the thin slices carefully, flour them, shaking off any excess and deep-fry them in sunflower oil until crisp. This happens fast. Drain these crisps on kitchen paper in a low oven.

Next dry and cook the diced aubergines slowly in the olive oil, turning them about. When they are juicy and almost tender, turn up the heat and scatter on the garlic. Cook 3 minutes more. Season, stir in the parsley and keep warm.

Finally dry the whiting; flour, egg and breadcrumb them, or turn them in fine cornmeal. Fry in clarified b.u.t.ter until cooked and nicely coloured. Serve with the two lots of aubergines, with either lemon wedges or very fresh tomato sauce.

WOLF-FISH see see A FEW WORDS ABOUT... A FEW WORDS ABOUT... CATFISH CATFISH YELLOW PERCH see see PERCH PERCH ZANDER see see PERCH PERCH

A FEW WORDS ABOUT OTHER FISH & CRUSTACEANS.

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ABALONE, ORMER & SEA EAR Haliotis tuberculata Haliotis tuberculata It is easy to collect sh.e.l.ls, whether from the beach or the junk shop, without ever realizing that each once had an occupant; in the case of the beautiful ormer or ear sh.e.l.l, with its nacreous lining of green, purple and silver lights, it was an occupant of a most desirable kind. In California they come in enormous sizes, and the edible white muscle is sold in large slices, already beaten (if they aren't beaten they are quite exceedingly tough). In Brittany, they are smaller but may still need beating. As far as the British Isles are concerned, you are unlikely to find them north of the Channel Islands.

There are two main ways of cooking them. The American system is to marinade the slices in oil and white wine, flavoured with chopped herbs and shallot. After a while they are removed and dried, and then cooked in b.u.t.ter very briefly like a steak. They are also chopped up and used in chowders and soups. The Breton and Channel Island system is to turn them into a stew.

ORMEAUX AU MUSCADET.

Serves 61 kg (2 lb) sh.e.l.led ormers250 g (8 oz) unsalted b.u.t.tersalt, pepper1 clove garlic, chopped1 large onion, choppedplenty of parsley3 clovesbouquet garnigenerous 450 ml (14 fl oz) Muscadetbeurre manie*

Having beaten the ormers energetically with a mallet, arrange them in layers in a flameproof ca.s.serole, dotting each layer with b.u.t.ter, seasoning, chopped garlic, onion and parsley. Add the cloves, bouquet garni and wine. Bring to the boil and simmer steadily for 3045 minutes until the ormers are tender. Strain off the liquid; stir in the beurre manie in little pieces until the sauce thickens keep it over a low heat so that it does not boil. Pour the sauce over the ormers, sprinkle on a little more parsley, and serve.

CARPET-Sh.e.l.lS Venerupis decussata Venerupis decussata Although two kinds of carpet-sh.e.l.l, the Cross-cut (Tapes decussata) and Pullet (Tapes pullastra), are common in Great Britain, I have never seen them on sale in a fishmonger's or on the menu of a restaurant. To eat them you will have to go to Brittany, where palourdes farcies grillees palourdes farcies grillees has made the name of several restaurants, or to Paris or you will have to go and dig them up yourself. Equip the family with rakes and spoons the advice of one French writer and find a large extent of muddy, gravelly sh.o.r.e. Consult has made the name of several restaurants, or to Paris or you will have to go and dig them up yourself. Equip the family with rakes and spoons the advice of one French writer and find a large extent of muddy, gravelly sh.o.r.e. Consult Collins' Guide to the Sea Sh.o.r.e Collins' Guide to the Sea Sh.o.r.e for a description and ill.u.s.tration. for a description and ill.u.s.tration.

Open them like oysters or clams. The best recipe, in Breton style, is on p. 256 p. 256, under Huitres farcies grillees.

CATFISH, WOLF-FISH OR ROCK TURBOT Anarhichas lupus Anarhichas lupus This fierce creature, with its blunted head like a fold-eared cat, makes good eating. The long single-boned body provides firm flesh which, like tuna and angler-fish, can be treated like veal. The first time we bought it in France we were advised to pierce it with slivers of garlic, and either bake it in tomato sauce (see Lotte a l'americaine, Lotte a l'americaine, p. 229 p. 229), or fry it in clarified b.u.t.ter*. It benefits from a little sharpness, such as vinegar or lemon, in the final seasoning. You could also try it au poivre au poivre as in the turbot recipe, as in the turbot recipe, p. 436 p. 436.

Owing to its fierce aspect, catfish is sold without the head and skin. In Britain the pinkish white fillets appear under the name of rock turbot or rock salmon, which is more usually applied to dogfish. I dislike such names: they make comparisons which lead inevitably to the lesser fish's disadvantage. The French call it sea wolf. Are we too squeamish for this or for the straightforward catfish or wolf-fish?

CATFISH WITH FENNEL AND BEURRE NOISETTE.

Serves 63 large heads Florentine fennel, sliced125 g (4 oz) b.u.t.ter2 large onions, choppedsalt, pepper3 cloves garlic11 kg (23 lb) tailpiece or fillet catfishseasoned flour60 g (2 oz) clarified b.u.t.ter*wine vinegarparsley Cook the fennel in boiling, salted water for 5 minutes, drain. Melt 60 g (2 oz) b.u.t.ter; stew the onion and fennel in it for about 20 minutes, until cooked but not brown. Season. Cut the garlic into slivers and push into incisions made in the fish with a sharp pointed knife. Turn the fish in seasoned flour, and fry gently in the clarified b.u.t.ter. Put the vegetables on a dish, with the catfish on top. Clean the fish pan and melt the last 60 g (2 oz) b.u.t.ter in it. When golden brown, pour it over the fish. Swill out the pan with a good dash of vinegar and pour on top of the b.u.t.ter. Sprinkle with chopped parsley and serve.

CONGER EEL Conger conger Conger conger When it is my turn for the ferry boat across the Styx, one of the people I hope to encounter in Hades is Nereus of Chios, a Greek chef who worked in Sybaris. He was famous for his preparation of conger eel, and I should like to know how he did it. I suspect he followed the cookery tradition of cla.s.sical times and drowned the fish in seasonings and strong sauces. Now conger eel, being firm and insistent in flavour, might survive this treatment well better, at any rate, than delicate fish like sole or turbot. The sauce for roast conger eel given some two thousand years ago by Apicius (who got his recipes mainly from Greek cooks working in Italy) included pepper, lovage, grilled c.u.min, oregano, dried onion, yolks of hard-boiled eggs, wine, honeyed wine, vinegar and garum garum which was a fermented fish sauce ( which was a fermented fish sauce (see p. 48 p. 48) with a good deal more kick than anchovy essence.

I do not suggest that you follow Apicius to the letter, but remember that a little conger eel goes a long way and can stand up to a collection of other flavours. For this reason it is an excellent fish for soup, as you will see if you try the Breton recipe, below, or the Matelote Normande on p. 499 p. 499. The conger makes a good basis of fish flavour.

Do not be fooled by writers who instruct you to cook conger eel like the silver eel from the Sarga.s.so sea, Anguilla anguilla Anguilla anguilla, one of the finest fish you can eat. General shape apart, they have nothing in common and your expectations will be disappointed. I suspect that this instruction is merely handed down from cookery book to cookery book, without anyone trying it out. I have, several times, and it was a disastrous waste. The only possible eel recipe would be the red wine and prunes matelote (p. 134) where, Apicius-style, the almost unpleasant flavour of conger in the piece is well subdued by stronger presences.

As a subsistence fish, it has its own little history. In Cornwall, until the end of the last century, 'conger-doust' was exported in quant.i.ty to Catholic countries, largely, I gather, for soup-making on fast days. This was conger, split, and dried without salting; a kind of stockfish. In Normandy, fishermen do the same thing, but season the boned conger with salt and pepper before drying it in the sun. It is eaten for breakfast with bread and b.u.t.ter, and milky coffee, just as the Scots used to eat wind-dried whiting and haddock (p. 495). Conger eel is also cooked, with onions and herbs, in vinegar, and stored as a preserve, like soused herring (p. 201). Pieces are removed from time to time and served at the beginning of a meal with oil and herbs, and bread and b.u.t.ter.

Always buy a thick piece of conger eel from the head end. The bones seem to multiply alarmingly towards the tail.

BRETON CONGER EEL SOUP.

This is a good homely soup, to which extra vegetables can be added to taste; for instance, soaked haricot beans, a small amount of turnip, or onion.

Serves 6750 g (1 lb) conger eel2 large leeksoil400 g (14 oz) can tomatoes750 g (1 lb) potatoes, peeledbouquet garnisalt, pepper Cut the conger eel into thick slices; then cook gently with the leeks in a large saucepan, with just enough oil to cover the base of the pan in a thin layer. Don't let them brown, but turn them about for 5 minutes. Add 1 litres (3 pt) of water. When it boils, add the tomatoes, the potatoes cut into dice, and the bouquet garni. Simmer for 45 minutes, skimming off the murky looking foam which rises. Remove the conger eel, discard the skin and bones and return the pieces to the soup. Discard, too, the bouquet. Correct the seasoning and serve.

CROAKERS & DRUMS Sciaenidae Sciaenidae spp. spp.

There are many kinds of croakers and drums spread all over the world. Like the gurnard, they owe their names to the p.r.o.nounced noises they make by vibrating a muscle attached to the air-bladder, which then acts as a resonator (see p. 468 p. 468). The drums include the corvina of Peru, the fish traditionally used to make Ceviche (p. 348); the weakfish and kingfish of North America; the kabeljou of South Africa; and the mulloway of Australia. Also in the family is the meagre, which I first came across in France: it lay on the fish stall, plump and silvery-grey, looking like a sea ba.s.s. This was not surprising as these fish are related to the sea perches, or groupers, of which the ba.s.s is one: the recipes for ba.s.s and bream are all suitable for the meagre.

Large drums and croakers can be cooked according to recipes for cod steaks and fillets; really small fish can be grilled, or else dipped in beaten egg and breadcrumbs and deep-fried (in America cornmeal would be used instead of breadcrumbs).

Our fish was 375 g (12 oz) in weight. Madame Soares, who sold it to us, suggested we should bake it in the oven. Then remembering we had no oven, she suggested we fry it meuniere, in clarified b.u.t.ter. This was most successful because the skin turned to a golden crispness which made an excellent contrast to the sweet flavour and soft texture of the ba.s.s-like flesh. Some lemon juice and a few potatoes were all the addition it needed.

DOGFISH alias FLAKE, HUSS or RIGG Scyliorhinus canicula Scyliorhinus canicula I cannot be the only person to a.s.sociate dogfish with the appalling smell of formalin. On dissecting days at school, too often Fridays, the smell became unforgettably united, about halfway up the stairs, with the smell of fish pie. A cacophony of smell. No wonder the fish authorities have preferred the names of flake, huss and rigg.

There is good warrant for these names. Frank Buckland visited Folkestone harbour in the last century and saw that most of the fishermen's houses were adorned 'with festoons of fish hung out to dry. There was no head, tail or fins to them... the rough skin on their reverse side told me at once that they were a species of dogfish. I asked what they were? "Folkestone beef," was the reply. What sort of fish is that? "That's a Rig", and this? "That's a Huss", and this other? "That! A 'bull huss'."' He went on to say that as soon as the boats arrived, the fish-dealers could be seen cutting off the heads, tails and fins and halving the fish, which were then salted and hung out to dry. When grilled, they tasted like veal chops, and were eaten 'by the poorer cla.s.s, as a relish for breakfast'.

The word dogfish covers a variety of small sharks, as fierce as a pack of wild dogs. They have a keen sense of smell, and hunt mackerel, herring and whiting like a pack of hounds.

All this being said, the name will not do. We are too closely attached to family dogs to eat anything that bears their name. The same with cats. I think that flake, huss and rigg are therefore reasonable. Rock salmon or rock turbot for catfish is a less happy choice of alias. It verges on a con trick, because catfish is not remotely like salmon or turbot at any point; rockfish is a better choice.

Good quality huss is certainly a wiser buy than a piece of tired white fillet of nothing-in-particular. It repays attention. Cut it into 8-cm (3-inch) pieces the body is long and roughly eel-shaped and coat them in seasoned flour. Fry gently until a true golden-brown, in b.u.t.ter, or preferably clarified b.u.t.ter*. Serve them with natural brown rice, boiled and tender, and with a creamy sauce. The curry sauce* is an excellent choice. So is sauce aurore*, or a white wine sauce; seasoning and richness.

Another way is to brown the floured pieces lightly in olive oil flavoured with garlic, and to transfer them to a tomato*, creole* or americaine* sauce to finish cooking.

Very fresh huss can be deep-fried in batter* and served hot or cold, with an olive oil and lemon vinaigrette*, or one of the highly flavoured mayonnaises*.

DOLPHINFISH OR DORADO.

One of the fish now being imported from the Caribbean is the dolphinfish or dorado. It is also fairly common in the Mediterranean where it usually appears under the name of lampuga.

This strange grey and gilded creature, with a blunt, cat-like head and unbroken fins down its long body, has a delicious flavour. It should be better known. Do not be put off by the name this fish has nothing to do with true dolphins which are mammals.

Dolphinfish is a suitable candidate for the americaine treatment, (p. 213). In general it should be treated in a southern style for instance, steaks baked in the oven with some kind of chopped and moistened mixture on top. The pine-kernel stuffing on p. 359 p. 359 is good, or a chop-up of onions, b.u.t.ter, herbs and a few breadcrumbs, with grated lemon peel (what the Italians call a is good, or a chop-up of onions, b.u.t.ter, herbs and a few breadcrumbs, with grated lemon peel (what the Italians call a battuto battuto).

If steaks are to be grilled, it is wise to marinade them first (oil, lemon, garlic); or if there is not time for this, wrap them in foil before grilling (b.u.t.tered foil, plus lemon, finely chopped onion and so on). The parcels can always be opened for the last part of the cooking in order to brown the tops.

FLYING FISH Atheriniformes Atheriniformes spp. spp.

Several varieties are caught in the tropical and sub-tropical seas of the world. Their flight is more apparent than the garfish's or saury's, lasting for quite a few seconds with the help of the huge pectoral fins which sustain the leaping movements of the tail. Their head is a conventional fish-shape, with no protracted beak. When you spread out the spiny fins, they give an almost bird-like impression of flight.

Flying fish used to come to this country only as frozen, grey-black creatures, about 2025 cm (810 inches) long, fins plastered to their body by ice. However, I have occasionally been able to buy flying fish from enterprising fishmongers. In my experience, it is not the flavour or the texture of flying fish that is so remarkable but their beautiful shape with the wing-like fins that enable them to leap from the sea.

When grilled, the flesh is firm, almost white, pinkish-brownish, in nice flakes. It has a slightly cured taste, with a hint of buckling about it. It is not as oily as mackerel, but richer than garfish. As we ate it the first time, I reflected that fish from warm seas do not have the flavour of northern fish. Many people have said this so I don't think that the observation is a matter of cold-climate chauvinism.

The recipes for gurnard would also be suitable for flying fish; so would some of the baked herring and mackerel recipes on pp. 1825 pp. 1825 and and 2237 2237.

FLYING FISH PIE.

Serves 463 kg (1 lb) fillets of flying fishsalt, pepperb.u.t.ter1 kg (2 lb) yams1 large onion1 large tomato2 hard-boiled eggs2 egg yolks2 tablespoons groundnut or or sunflower oil sunflower oil2 tablespoons unsalted b.u.t.ter1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce6 tablespoons dry sherry Season the fillets and fry them lightly on both sides in b.u.t.ter. Then cut the pieces in two. Peel and cook the yams, cool and slice thinly. Slice the onion thinly, also the tomato and the hard-boiled eggs. Beat together the egg yolks, oil, melted unsalted b.u.t.ter, Worcestershire sauce and sherry.

b.u.t.ter a deep dish lavishly. Put in half the fish; scatter on top half the onion-tomato-egg mixture. Then cover neatly with half the yams. Repeat with another layer, and brush the top with melted b.u.t.ter. Pour over the egg-yolk mixture.

Bake in an oven preheated to gas 4, 180C (350F) for about half an hour until the top is brown and everything heated through. Be prepared to give it a little longer, but avoid overcooking at all costs.

FRESHWATER CRAYFISH Astacus pallipes Astacus pallipes & & A. fluviatilis A. fluviatilis Pollution has not helped the freshwater crayfish, which likes very clear, oxygenated streams. These miniature lobsters have been favourite eating for a long time. Hannah Gla.s.se gives recipes for crayfish soup, one demanding fifty, and the other two hundred: 'save out about 20, then pick the rest from the sh.e.l.ls'. But there are less extravagant and more delectable ways of cooking them, for those who are lucky enough to live in chalk and limestone parts of the country where they can indulge in crayfishing parties at night. (The best bait is not-too-fresh meat; a sheep's head is the thing, or some bits of meat concealed in the centre of a f.a.ggot of sticks: the crayfish cling to the head, or crawl right into the sticks, and can then be drawn out of the water in quant.i.ty this is the theory.) The most famous of all crayfish recipes is, I suppose, Sauce Nantua, but a simpler crayfish sauce is also excellent with chicken, as you will see if you try the following recipe.

CHICKEN WITH CRAYFISH.

This is a beautiful recipe from Le Lievre Amoureux at Saint Lattier in the Isere.

Serves 61 chicken, cut into joints8 tablespoons b.u.t.tersalt, pepper375 ml (12 fl oz) dry white wine2 large tomatoes, peeled, chopped1 kg (2 lb) crayfish1 tablespoon chopped shallot1 clove garlic, crushed1 gla.s.s cognac2 tablespoons plain flour125 ml (4 fl oz) chicken stockpinch of saffron90 ml (3 fl oz) Madeira3 tablespoons double cream1 tablespoon fresh chervil, chopped Fry the chicken in half the b.u.t.ter until lightly browned. Season, and add a third of the wine. Cover and leave to simmer, adding the rest of the wine at intervals. About io minutes before the chicken is cooked, put the tomatoes into the pan and finish cooking.

To cook the crayfish, fry them in the rest of the b.u.t.ter until they turn red. Add the shallot and garlic, stirring them into the pan. Pour on the cognac and set it alight. Sprinkle on the flour, let it brown a little and moisten with the chicken stock and dry white wine. Add the saffron and seasoning, and leave to simmer for 3 minutes. Pour in the chicken and its cooking liquor. Cover and leave for another 3 minutes. Finally stir in the Madeira and cream.

Put the chicken pieces on a warm serving dish with the crayfish, keeping a few of these to garnish the top. Pour the sauce over, without sieving it, and sprinkle with chervil.

eCREVISSES a LA NAGE.

This is a favourite French way of serving these rare and delicious creatures so long as you have plenty. Allow a minimum of 6 per person: 9 or 12 will be more gratefully received.

Serves 6white wine court bouillon, no. 5*a few grains of aniseedcayenne pepper stick celery36 or more crayfish Boil the court bouillon, with the extra aromatics, until reduced by half.

Meanwhile, wash the live crayfish in plenty of water, drain them well. Remove the intestine if you can, by pulling out the middle tail fin. Tip them into the fast-boiling liquid and simmer for 12 minutes, with the lid on the pan.

Put the unsh.e.l.led crayfish into a bowl (they are often piled up in an elegant arrangement) and strain the bouillon over them.

SAUCE NANTUA.

This is a fine sauce made with freshwater crayfish not with lobster not with lobster. Any dish with the word Nantua attached to it means 'garnished with freshwater crayfish and serve with Sauce Nantua'.

Once after a brief holiday at Lake Annecy, we stopped at this small town in the mountains with its own calm blue lake. I went to buy picnic food, and remembered being disappointed that the streets were not paved with ecrevisses. There weren't any in the shops either. Perhaps I was just unlucky. Perhaps it was the wrong day. Perhaps the entire haul of those miniature lobsters from the many streams around the town is taken by the two best hotels. Certainly their menus proclaimed Quenelles de brochet Nantua, Gratin d'ecrevisses Nantua, Croustade de queues d'ecrevisses.

In our part of western France the lack of crayfish is lamented. Detergents are blamed, so are chemical fertilizers and weed-killers washed by rain from the soil into small streams. If you are lucky and live in the Cotswolds, or some other part of England where crayfish are to be found, plan to make this delicious sauce. Then go out and find pike for the quenelles on p. 275 p. 275 or else invest in a boiling fowl, as this is good with Sauce Nantua: or serve the sauce with poached sole or salmon. or else invest in a boiling fowl, as this is good with Sauce Nantua: or serve the sauce with poached sole or salmon.

Once you have achieved the crayfish, your troubles are over. To a bechamel sauce*, add 300 ml (10 fl oz) single cream and reduce to about 450 ml (15 fl oz) a nice creamy consistency. Finish with 3 tablespoons double cream, 35 tablespoons of crayfish b.u.t.ter (p. 210), and a generous tablespoon of sh.e.l.led crayfish tails. Truffles and truffle juice may be added, but for most people this is even further beyond expectation than crayfish, or a few mushrooms stewed in b.u.t.ter can be used as a garnish, and their cooking juice added to the sauce.

GARFISH & NEEDLENOSE OR SAURY Belone belone Belone belone & & s...o...b..resox saurus s...o...b..resox saurus Garfish may not be an epicure's delight, but they have some enchanting characteristics, more than enough to enhance the good but unexciting flavour. Although they are plentiful enough in our waters, we saw them first in France at our weekly market. The blueish-green glow of their long narrow bodies stood out amongst the herring and mussels; so did the protracted beaks armoured with a row of tiny vicious teeth (garfish the name goes back to the Middle Ages means spearfish or javelinfish, from the shape of this beaky snout). The label said orphies. Name and appearance were worthy of a fairy tale, or one of the lighter stories of mythology. In her quick way, Madame Soares the fishmonger saw we were hooked, and came over to explain that the glowing sheen of the skin was repeated in the bones. 'I'll cut one up to show you... See?' Sure enough they were an exquisite greenish-blue, like Persian plates in a museum. The colour doesn't disappear in the heat of cooking either, so you have an elegant articulation of peac.o.c.k glory against the white flesh on your plate. (It is caused by a harmless phosphate of iron, discovered in 1823 by J. G. Vivian and named vivianite.) Another amiable characteristic is the way garfish leap out of the water to escape prowling tuna fish, or to snap at the tiny herrings and sprats they live on. It is not the real flight of a bird, a flight which changes direction and soars and dips, but more of a 'skittering' over the sea propelled by strong tail movements.

Garfish arrive on the west coast of England in early summer, swimming into shallow water just ahead of the mackerel in some parts they are called mackerel guide or mackerel scout to sp.a.w.n in the seaweed. Apparently housewives in the East End of London like to buy them. The rest of England doesn't get much of a chance. No demand. (I always wonder how we are expected to 'demand' fish we have never had the opportunity of seeing or hearing about.) Madame Soares doesn't suffer from that kind of fishmonger's laziness and stupidity. She delights in the unusual. The moment your eye flickers towards something new, she is there. Like a Colette of the marketplace, she pours out information with feeling and drama, from a treasure of h.o.a.rded experience. Usually there is a recitative on the history, capture and character traits of the fish, rising to an aria of recipes and sauces. In this case the recitative was the thing, because the garfish doesn't offer much scope for culinary enterprise.

The saury (s...o...b..resox saurus) is related to the garfish, and looks very like it. The beak is similarly protracted for which reason Americans call it needlenose and needlefish. It leaps from the water, too, though rather more vigorously, and is sometimes called skipper. One thing distinguishes it instantly from its cousin two rows of small tuftlike fins between the dorsal fins and the tail. When you cook and eat it, you could not guess the difference since the bones have a greeny peac.o.c.k glory too. It is caught down the east coast of America and in the Caribbean, as well as in Europe and North Africa. Other related species are found in the Atlantic and Pacific: occasionally they can be bought in cans.

How to prepare garfish and needlenose Cut off the head, tail and fins. Clean out well. Cut across into 57-cm (23-inch) pieces. Dip them in seasoned flour and fry them in clarified b.u.t.ter. A few lemon quarters, some bread or potatoes in b.u.t.ter, a gla.s.s of white wine, and there you are simple gustatory pleasure with plenty of conversation.

The Danes who eat a good deal of hornfisk (garfish) sometimes poach it in very salty water or a court bouillon*. French friends have recommended a green sauce sharpened with sorrel* which is fine if you feel the occasion requires embellishment, or if garfish often comes your way and you want a change. I prefer the simplest style of all.

GURNARD Triglidae Triglidae spp. spp.

Three species of gurnard are commonly caught in the Atlantic and Mediterranean: the grey gurnard (grondin gris), the yellow (grondin perlon) and the red (grondin rouge). They are easily distiguished from all other fish by their strange, mail-cheeked heads, with bony plates which give them a prehistoric, almost fossil-like appearance. The body attenuates from the large head in a cone, which lacks the elegant curves of more conventionally-shaped fish such as sea bream or herring. The flesh is firm and white, good for baking, stews and soups. It is not a fish of the first water, but it is useful and cheap, well worth buying.

One snag. The lovely colour of the red gurnard, in my experience the most commonly seen of the three in this country, means that it can be confused with the red mullet. Take a good, long look at the head and general body shape, or you may be disappointed in your expectations. Not even the gurnard's most devoted admirer could say the flavours were comparable. On hotel menus in northern France, we have also been confused by the word rouget rouget on the menu. Expecting on the menu. Expecting rouget-barbet rouget-barbet or red mullet, we learned the hard, unforgettable way that gurnard are sometimes called or red mullet, we learned the hard, unforgettable way that gurnard are sometimes called rougets-grondins rougets-grondins.

The names of this fish reveal an interesting thing: the gurnard's ability to make short, sharp noises. Both grondin grondin and gurnard come from French words for growling ( and gurnard come from French words for growling (gronder) and for grunting (grogner). These strange sounds are made by a. special muscle in the air-bladder wall, which can vibrate many times a second: the air-bladder acts as a resonating chamber. There are other fish with the same ability, which has led to all kinds of speculation about the origin of the Sirens' song. A shoal, say of meagre or drums (p. 459), many feet below the surface of the sea, can be heard quite clearly on board a fishing boat. Like the noises made by whales and dolphins, they have not been interpreted so far.

A practical point the size of gurnard can vary enormously. Judge the amount you require by eye, allowing for the size of the head, rather than by weight. The recipes following are based on gurnard weighing about 250 g (8 oz) each.

GURNARD WITH A CHEESE AND WINE SAUCE.

The firm texture of gurnard makes it a successful fish for a gratin. The main preparation can be done several hours before the meal, with a last-minute reheating in the oven or under the grill.

Serves 61 kg (3 lb) gurnards, filletedcourt bouillon* or light chicken or veal stock plus a dash of wine vinegar light chicken or veal stock plus a dash of wine vinegar125 g (4 oz) b.u.t.ter3 tablespoons plain flour150 ml (5 fl oz) scant white wine300 ml (10 fl oz) hot milk3 or 4 tablespoons double cream (optional)60 g (2 oz) Parmesan cheese, grated60 g (2 oz) Gruyere cheese, gratedsalt, pepper, nutmeg60 g (2 oz) breadcrumbs Put the cleaned and filleted gurnard into the court bouillon or stock and vinegar; there should be enough to cover it comfortably. Bring slowly to simmering point, and remove the fish the moment it is cooked. Put head, skin and bone back into the cooking stock, and continue to boil gently. Leave the fillets to drain while the sauce is made.

Melt half the b.u.t.ter in a small pan; stir in the flour. Cook for 2 minutes, then pour in the wine and cook for a further 2 or 3 minutes. Now pour in a good ladleful of the boiling fish liquor (through a strainer) about 150 ml (5 fl oz) or a little more then the hot milk. Simmer to a thick but not gluey consistency. Stir in the cream if used, then half the grated cheese. Season well with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Put a layer of the sauce into a gratin dish, then the gurnard fillets. Cover with the rest of the sauce. Mix the remaining cheese with the breadcrumbs and scatter evenly on top. Dot with the last 60 g (2 oz) of b.u.t.ter, and reheat in a very hot oven or under the grill until brown and bubbling.

MOULINES FARCIES a LA FeCAMPOISE.

I found this very pleasant appetizing recipe in Simone Morand's Gastronomie Normande Gastronomie Normande. It makes the best of a most obligingly cheap fish (mouline is the local name for gurnard). is the local name for gurnard).

Serves 66 gurnards2 onions or or 2 large shallots, sliced 2 large shallots, slicedbouquet garni2 gla.s.ses dry cider1 tomato, sliced2 tablespoons double creamchopped parsleySTUFFING90 g (3 oz) b.u.t.ter300 g (10 oz) mushrooms, chopped1 chopped shallot2 large tablespoons good sausage meat1-cm ( -inch) slice breadmilkchopped parsley1 sprig of thymelemon juicesalt, pepper Make the stuffing first. Melt the b.u.t.ter and fry the mushrooms and shallot and sausage meat gently. Squeeze the bread in a little milk, just to moisten it, and add to the pan. Season with parsley and thyme, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Divide this mixture between the six gurnard.

b.u.t.ter an ovenproof dish which will hold the stuffed gurnard cosily. Tuck the onion slices and the bouquet into the gaps. Pour in the cider and dispose the tomato slices in a decorative manner on top. Bake in a moderate to fairly hot oven (gas 45, 180190C/350375F) until the fish are cooked about half an hour. If the dish seems dry, add a couple of spoonfuls of water during the cooking. About 5 minutes before the end, pour the cream over the whole thing. Sprinkle with chopped parsley and serve.

OCTOPUS Octopus vulgaris Octopus vulgaris & & O. dofleini O. dofleini One of the most familiar sights of a trip to Greece is a fisherman on the rocky edge of a harbour or beach, beating an octopus. There is something heroic about it, a scene from an ancient Attic vase. Watching it, you feel the link with a past of two thousand years and more. Now I learn that all this muscular activity is unnecessary, no need for all this swing and bash, swing and bash nine and ninety times. The octopus has been maligned. It is as tender as a chicken.

All you need to do, once it has been cleaned, is to dip it for 4 or 5 seconds in a pan of fast-boiling water, then let it cool for a minute and dip again. Out for another minute and then back it goes for the third time, but lower the heat to maintain a bare simmer and leave for an hour. Now all you have to do is to drain it, cut it up and finish it in one of the stews or sauces from the squid or lobster chapters. You do not even need to skin it.

Enlightenment or disillusion, according to your temperament comes from A.J. McClane and his splendid Encyclopaedia of Fish Cookery Encyclopaedia of Fish Cookery. 'This process' which is followed in Spain 'of dipping, as opposed to submerging the octopus in boiling water, denatures the protein gradually and when left to simmer it will not toughen.'

Since we have begun at the end, I propose to return to the alpha of the matter the cleaning. Mostly you will not need to bother about this, as all the preliminaries will have been concluded by the time the fishmonger sells you an octopus (bear in mind that it can shrink enormously in the simmering when you decide how much to buy and check that there is a double row of suckers on the tentacles since there is an inferior species which has only one row). But should you be given an octopus by an amiable fisherman, it would be a shame not to know what to do. The most obvious thing about an octopus, and the reason for its name, is its eight tentacles (okto and and pous pous being Greek for eight and foot) encrusted with suckers. They come together and end in a collapsed looking bag, which is the head. This is easily turned inside out so that the bits and pieces inside can be removed: save the ink sac if it is needed for the recipe. being Greek for eight and foot) encrusted with suckers. They come together and end in a collapsed looking bag, which is the head. This is easily turned inside out so that the bits and pieces inside can be removed: save the ink sac if it is needed for the recipe.

Before I learned the Spanish method above, I used to put the whole octopus into a covered Pyrex dish and leave it in a low oven say gas 2, 150C (300F) or even lower for an hour at least. A glance from time to time would reveal the interesting stages as the octopus turned from its original blueish-grey colour to a rusty sort of pink, and became submerged in its own liquid.

A standard way of cooking octopus is to fry an onion in olive oil with a little garlic, add tomatoes, wine, a little water and herbs, and then put in the pieces of octopus that have had their preliminary simmering. Diced potato can be added in Cypriot style, or you can flavour the sauce with ink in the Basque manner of Calamares en su tinta (p. 405). Instead of wine and ink, you might try pastis but go carefully or some ground c.u.min and harissa in North African style.

Octopus is included in fish soups, such as Cacciucco (p. 401), and in stews. Pieces are grilled over charcoal. Sometimes it is used to eke out lobster, rather as monkfish is, but n.o.body is fooled, I would say. You can eat it cold, making a little salad with avocados, some bitter greenery and an olive oil vinaigrette, or you can chew it with a gla.s.s of ouzo as an aperitif.